


Come Back to Me

by searin_pants



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Aveline is a hug machine, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Dragon Age: Inquisition, Psychological Trauma, Reunions
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-26
Updated: 2015-04-11
Packaged: 2018-03-15 08:24:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3440303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/searin_pants/pseuds/searin_pants
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fenris has been mourning Hawke's death for months, then a letter arrives from Skyhold which may change everything.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I did two Inquisition playthroughs. One where I left Stroud in the Fade and one when I left Hawke (just incase of any 'rescue Hawke' DLCs) I probably would have had a breakdown had Alistair been my warden. Obviously, this is set in the 'Hawke Stays' universe.

_Aveline,_

_Whatever you are doing at this point in time, I need you to stop. Bring Fenris and Carver to Skyhold. Kirkwall will have to do with it’s Guard Captain for the time being._

_Our Inquisition forces stationed at Adamant have reported a fade rift opening. ~~Someone~~ Shit, it’s Hawke, it has to be. All I know is he’s back. ~~He’s close to death~~ They are unsure if he’ll survive. He’s being brought to Skyhold._

_Bring the elf. DON’T tell him about Hawke. I don’t care what bullshit story you tell to get him here. Hawke probably won’t survive. Fenris has lost the man once, and you know as well as I do that he won’t cope with losing him again without the chance to say goodbye._

_If there is even the slightest chance that Hawke will survive long enough to die in the elf’s arms, for Fenris to have a chance to say goodbye properly, we have to take it, and Carver needs the chance to see his brother one last time._

_You’ve done so much for both Carver and Fenris these last few months. Shit, If you and Donnic hadn’t taken the elf in after what happened in The Fade, I don’t think he would have survived. From what I’ve heard, he all but gave up on life._

_Leave Kirkwall NOW. There is no time to piss-fart around._

_If you are unable to get here in time, then_

_FUCK THIS SHIT sorry just bring Carver and the elf NOW._

_Sorry about my handwriting my hands are shaking._

_Your friend,_

_Varric._

Aveline Vallen, Guard Captain of Kirkwall, woman shaped battering ram and all round badass sighed. She handed the letter to her husband.

‘We leave tonight,’ she stated, ‘put that letter somewhere that Fenris will never find it.’

 

In the months following Corypheus’ defeat, life had all but returned to normal in Thedas. Carver had returned to Kirkwall following the news of his brother’s death and had yet to rejoin the Wardens as he took time to grieve for his last remaining family member.

Fenris had shut down. He had dragged himself to the Hendyr’s door upon receiving word of Hawke’s death. Donnic had found him sobbing on their doorstep in the early hours of the morning and they had taken him in.

His grief had been all consuming. For weeks he refused to get out of bed. It took a monumental effort just to get the warrior to eat.

‘ _I will not take my own life_ ,’ he had assured them, ‘ _but I will make no effort to continue living.’_

Aveline had been there for him. She understood what he was going through. Not only was she grieving for Hawke, but it brought up memories of losing Wesley. She was determined to be strong for the elf, to help him heal.

All she could do was be there for him. He didn’t wish to speak. He wasn’t interested in the consoling words of acquaintances who had come to pay their respects. They didn’t know what he was feeling. His life was over. He just wanted to close his eyes and cease to exist.

And then, just as it seemed that Fenris was beyond hope, months after the elf had arrived on their doorstep, Aveline had walked in to the kitchen at the end of the day to find Fenris perched at the table. He was talking to Donnic.

He was smiling.

A sad, longing smile. But a smile nonetheless.

‘ _I… should thank you_ ,’ he had said in a gentle voice, ‘ _both of you. I didn’t know how I was to live without him. To be honest, I’m still not sure. But I will try. I really will_.’

 

Donnic folded he letter, shaking his head sadly.

‘Is this wise, Aveline? It sounds hopeless to me. It’s a long journey from Adamant to The Frostbacks. It’s unlikely Hawke – if it is indeed Hawke – will survive the journey.

He stepped forward and pulled his wife into a gentle embrace.

‘I know you want to help him heal,’ he said, ‘but this could have the opposite effect.’

Aveline hugged her husband fiercely.

‘We have to give him the chance, my love. Maker knows how much he’s suffered. If he could just see him. The chance to say goodbye…’

Aveline pulled back and looked her husband in the eyes.

‘We need to take him.’She said, firmly, ‘You must fetch Carver. We leave tonight.’

 

_________

 

‘I have no wish to go,’ said Fenris flatly, not looking up from his book.

Aveline gave an exasperated sigh. The light from the fireplace flickered softly as she paced back and forth. Of course it was not going to be easy! She’d been a fool to think that the elf would agree to this.

‘Fenris, please,’ she sighed, ‘If you’ll just listen…’

‘No, Aveline,’ Fenris spat, ‘I have no wish to travel to some Maker-forsaken place and meet the BASTARD who condemned the man I love to death.’

The red head crouched down infront of the chair occupied by the elf and buried her head in her hands.

‘Maker preserve me,’ she muttered.

She raised her eyes to look at the elf.

‘Hawke willingly gave his life to protect the people of Thedas. They wish to honour him. It’s important that you be there.’

‘ _A statue of the Champion at Skyhold?_ ’ she winced at her own stupid thought, ‘ _Of all the ridiculous excuses to bring Fenris to the place…_ ’

Fenris set his book down and looked at his friend. He hadn’t wanted to upset or frustrate her.

‘I’m sorry, Aveline,’ he said sadly, ‘I just… I can’t.’

She suddenly realised that she’d pushed the elf too far. By the time she noticed the tears pricking at his eyes, it was too late. He collapsed into a boneless pile of tortured sobs.

Aveline gasped as the elf reached for her, pulling her into a desperate hug. The Guard Captain was taken by surprise. She knew that Fenris was uncomfortable with physical contact, and for a moment, she was afraid to hug back. The warrior was already upset, and she feared that wrong move could easily end up with a fist through the chest.

The red head gently brought her arms around the man as he buried his face in her neck, sobbing deeply.

‘I… miss him so much, Aveline,’ he choked, ‘It hurts all the time. I never… I never got to say goodbye.’

Aveline hugged him tightly.

‘If we leave now, you may still get that chance.’

Fenris froze, and the red head cursed herself as she realised what she had just said.

‘I’m sorry, Fenris,’ came her shaking voice, ‘Varric asked me not to tell you.’

She could feel the man trembling in her arms, breathing short, shallow breaths. He held her tighter still, as is to stop himself from being pulled down into full blown panic.

‘How long have you known?’

Aveline stroked his hair gently, rocking him gently in an attempt to soothe the trembling elf.

‘A letter arrived this afternoon,’ she began, ‘They’re not even sure it is Hawke yet, Varric would have had me bring you without telling you. Just in case.’

Fenris took a deep breath, pulling back from his friends arms and steadying himself. He had made up his mind.

‘If there is a chance, no matter how small…’ he began.

‘Whoever he is,’ the red head said, ‘he’s in a very bad way. There is every possibility that we may not get there in time.’

Fenris stood up, wiping his eyes roughly with the back of his hand.

‘We leave now.’

 

_________

 

 

‘Why is it so COLD?!’

If there was one thing Carver Hawke knew how to do well, it was complain.

‘Oh, I don’t know, Carver,’ said Aveline, ‘Might have something to do with all this snow.’

Carver let his shoulders sag dramatically, making a show of pulling his cloak tightly around his body.

‘I’m bloody freezing.’

‘Suck it up, princess. Call yourself a Fereldan?’ came the red head’s bitter voice.

‘It never got THIS cold in Lothering.’ Carver whined.

‘We have rather more pressing matters to worry about than the cold,’ muttered Fenris, absently playing with the tattered red cloth tied tightly to his wrist.

Fenris walked a short distance ahead of the others. His feet were in a great deal of pain after Aveline had insisted that he wear boots. The painful blisters on his feet were getting worse, and he could feel the revolting sensation of warm, tacky blood on the back of his heels. Honestly, he would have preferred frostbite.

The pain didn’t matter though. Nothing mattered except reaching Skyhold.

Had he been here for any other reason, he’d have thought these mountains beautiful.

The elf had seen snow only a handful of times in his life, and never up close. The further up the mountain they went, the more the snow was slowing them down. The squeaky crunching sound his feet made as they sunk further and further into the crisp white powder was making him irrationally angry.

When the light began to retreat and Aveline suggested they make camp, the warrior flew into a rage.

‘I will not stop! We must keep moving!’ he screamed.

‘And when you fall down a crevasse,’ muttered Aveline, ‘you’ll have no chance at all of seeing Hawke.’

Fenris paced back and forth furiously as the others set up camp.

‘We’re wasting time! I just want to see him! I just want…’

Rage had turned to tears, and the elf eventually cried himself into a fitful sleep.

 

__________

 

Aveline and Carver sat by the fire, keeping a close eye on the sleeping elf.

‘Aveline,’ asked Carver softly, so as not to disturb the sleeping warrior, ‘what if we get there and it’s not my brother?’

The Guard Captain dropped her head, burying her face in her hands.

‘I… I honestly don’t know, Carver.’

The younger Hawke felt a tear run down his cheek.

‘Even if it is him, he’ll likely die, won’t he?’

Aveline was silent for a few moments, willing herself to be strong.

‘I think he probably will. I’m sorry.’

Carver drew his knees up and held them to his chest. He dropped his head to hide the tears that were threatening to overflow.

The pair sat in silence for a long time.

‘I don’t think I could bear to see him die. I love my big brother. I really do.’

Aveline moved to the man’s side and put her arms around his broad shoulder, pulling him into an awkward hug.

‘Just know that he would want you there with him, at the end.’

They didn’t speak for the rest of the night.


	2. Chapter 2

Fenris was up and pacing before the first soft rays of dawn had begun to peek over the mountain.

‘Get up!’ he growled, giving Carver a rough shove with his foot.

‘Get off me…’ mumbled the younger Hawke, his voice thick with sleep.

The elf bent down and wrenched the blanket off the man roughly.

‘This is no time for sleep, YOUR. BROTHER. IS. DYING!’

Aveline approached from behind, placing a firm hand on the elf’s shoulder. He shrugged it off angrily and resumed pacing.

‘We will be ready to go in a few minutes, _won’t we_ , Carver?’ she said in a stern voice.

‘Mmm… yes,’ the young man yawned, rising unsteadily to his feet. With bleary eyes, he started searching for something in the grey light of dawn.

‘I can’t find my boots,’ he mumbled.

Fenris picked them up from in front of the younger man’s face.

‘HERE ARE YOU MAKER DAMNED BOOTS!’ the elf screamed, throwing them at the younger Hawke’s chest.

Except they hit him in the face, and a geyser of crimson blood erupted from the man’s nose.

With a cry of rage, Carver leaped the smaller man, his fist connecting roughly with the elf’s jaw.

‘I didn’t even want to come here!’ he wailed, ‘I don’t even want to go to Skyhold!’

Fenris grabbed hold of Carver’s face, digging his fingers deeply into the man’s cheeks and trying to push the larger man off of him.

‘So you’d have your brother die alone? You sicken me!’ the elf growled.

The younger man staggered back, furious tears mixing with blood and the filth of a week’s travel. He collapsed to his knees and buried his face in his hands, his body wracked with pathetic sobs.

‘Please… please don’t make me watch him die.’

Fenris stepped back and fought the urge to be sick. Carver was in so much pain. It hurt to look.

‘Oh, Carver,’ sighed Aveline, crouching down and attempting to steady the shaking man, ‘it’s going to be okay.’

‘No! It won’t be!! First Father, then Bethany. I watched them both die. You would have me watch Garrett die as well? I’ll have no family left. I’ll have no one.’

The man sat slumped, defeated, in the freezing snow. His strength was gone.

‘Did you get to say goodbye to your sister?’ asked Fenris, suddenly feeling desperately sorry for the younger man.

‘No,’ sobbed Carver, ‘The ogre crushed her like an insect. She was dead before she hit the ground.’

‘Do you wish you’d had the chance?’

That was all it took. The younger Hawke got to his feet, rubbing his bloody nose with freezing hands. He looked taller than Fenris ever recalled seeing him.

‘How much farther is it, Aveline?’ Carver asked.

The red head picked up the man’s coat, wrapping it tightly around his shoulders. He smiled at her thankfully.

‘We should reach Skyhold by nightfall.’

Running trembling fingers through his filthy hair, Carver chuckled sadly.

‘I must look a mess,’ he mumbled.

‘We all look a mess,’ said Fenris, his own white hair grimy and splattered with blood from his fight with the other man, ‘I apologise for probably breaking your nose.’

‘Don’t apologise. I was being an ass. I deserved it.’

They trudged on towards Skyhold in silence, heads down, bracing against bitter winds. There was nothing anyone wanted or needed to say. All thoughts were on Hawke. On the desperate hope that they would get there in time.

‘What I said before, about having no family left, Fenris,’ Carver said suddenly, ‘I guess that’s not entirely true.’

The elf kept his head down, pushing forward though the deep snow.

‘You’re right, it’s not true. You have Gamlen and Charade.’

Carver rubbed the back of his neck nervously, taking a deep breath.

‘That’s not… I mean, yes. I do have them,’ said the young man, ‘I hardly know my cousin, though. I’ve met her I think, three times?’

‘No time for family reunions when you have Warden business to attend to,’ said the elf.

‘No, I guess not,’ sighed Carver, ‘What I meant to say, Fenris, is… Had you been a woman, my brother would have taken you as his wife long ago.’

Fenris looked at the younger man in surprise. Carver had never been entirely comfortable with his brother’s preference for the same sex.

‘I would have made an interesting wife,’ chuckled the elf, sadly.

‘You’re family, Fenris,’ Carver blurted out, afraid that if he didn’t get the words out now, he never would, ‘I don’t care if you don’t have a ring on your finger. I don’t care that you two didn’t stand in a Chantry and perform some meaningless ceremony to make your relationship real in the eyes of the Maker. You two belong to each other. You’re family, Fenris. You always will be.’

The elf tried to speak, to thank the younger Hawke. The words wouldn’t come. All he could do was nod gently at the other man, blinking back tears. Carver understood, and they fell back into silence once more.

 

\---------

 

                                                                                                                                                               

‘Andraste’s tits, you three look rough,’ said Varric.

They reached Skyhold late in the afternoon. It was cold, grey, and full of mages. Fenris hated the place already.

Varric greeted them as soon as they stepped inside the gate. He looked exhausted, but he was smiling. A good sign. He stood with two other men. Fenris recognised one as a Templar from Kirkwall. The other he guessed to be the Inquisitor.

Fenris narrowed his weary eyes at the man, taking in his shaggy auburn hair and deep green eyes, almost the same shade as his own. His face was badly scarred and he looked younger that the elf had thought he would be.

‘You must be Fenris,’ said the man, pleasantly, ‘Welcome to Skyhold. Hawke spoke a great deal about you.’

Ignoring the Inquisitor, Fenris rushed towards Varric, is body trembling.

‘Is it Hawke? Is he alive?’ he demanded.

Varric nodded, raising an eyebrow at the Guard Captain.

‘It is. And He is. Our forces arrived with him early this morning,’ said the dwarf, ‘Thanks for telling him, Aveline. Thanks a lot.’

The red head scowled at Varric, but held her tongue.

‘Where is he?’ growled the elf, ‘Take me to him.’

'I'm afraid that's not possible right now,' said the Inquisitor.

Fenris began to feel the familiar burn of rage igniting in his skin. He clenched his fist tightly as he turned to look into the Inquisitor’s eyes, hating him with a ferocity that he had not felt since the last time he had laid eyes on Danarius.

‘Oh, I should tell you, Inquisitor,’ said Varric, stepping between the two men, and gesturing in the elf’s direction, ‘This one glows too. So there you go. You two have something in common already.’

The dwarf leaned in towards the warrior.

‘Calm down, elf,’ he whispered, ‘No chest fisting, okay?’

Fenris squeezed his eyes shut tightly, calming himself with a few deep breaths. He felt the lyrium burn begin to dull and prepared himself to give the Inquisitor a tongue lashing. He opened his mouth to yell, but a meek voice from behind began to speak softly before he had a chance to get his words out.

‘I want to see my brother.’

Varric stepped towards Carver, placing his hand gently on the young man’s arm.

‘Not yet, Junior. Not yet,’ said the dwarf.

‘When?’ asked the younger Hawke, pitifully.

Varric sighed, rubbing his eyes. He looked as though he had not slept for days.

‘They’re with him now. The healers. They need to work undisturbed.’

Fenris began to pace, furious eyes still fixed on the Inquisitor.

‘And if they can’t do anything and he dies? Maker help me if I don’t get the chance to see him.’

‘You’ll get the chance, elf,’ Varric said, calmly, ‘Our forces at Adamant had some terrific healers with them. If they hadn’t been there he’d have had no chance. I sent word to Aveline, _and thanks again for telling him_ , before we had proper details. It was too risky to wait. We didn’t know at first how much time he had. We now know he’ll live. It’s going to be a long, hard recovery, though.’

‘ _He’ll live_ ,’ the words were deafening in the Fenris’ ears. All of a sudden, the air thinned. A thick fog surrounded him making it impossible to breathe. The colours swirling around him were suddenly far too bright and they burned into his eyes with such ferocity that he feared he may vomit. And all he could hear were those two words, over and over.

‘ _He’ll live’_.

The ground rushed up to meet him.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not happy with this chapter but I can't think how to fix it :(

Strong, muscular arms held him tightly. Carried him gently.

‘ _Oh, Hawke,_ ’ Fenris thought, ‘ _You smell so different._ ’

The arms held him tighter, and he smiled. He nuzzled closer towards the body holding his, pushing his face into soft breasts.

‘ _What?_ ’

The elf opened his eyes, startled.

‘Aveline?’

‘I’ll over look that, Fenris,’ she said in an amused voice, ‘You fainted. You were like the swooning heroine of one of Varric’s tales. You fainted with style, believe me.’

‘Hawke…’ began Fenris.

‘I’m taking you to him now.’

The elf’s head swam, and for a moment he was sure that he would faint again. He had believed Hawke dead for what seemed a lifetime. And now he was back. He was so close to him. This couldn’t be real. These people, they were surely demons attempting to break him. He was in the Fade, he had to be.

No. His feet hurt far too much and his head pounded. He felt like vomiting. This was real.

‘I would ask that you put me down, Aveline,’ said the warrior, slightly embarrassed, ‘Please.’

The red head lowered him gently, her hands remaining on his shoulders to steady him as he adjusted to being upright once more.

They were in a dark passage way made of cold, unforgiving stone. He suddenly noticed that Carver was with them, pale and trembling. He’d never known the younger Hawke to be so quiet. Fenris shifted his weight uncomfortably. He hated the cold. He hated the Inquisitor. He hated Skyhold. But Hawke was here. Nothing else mattered.

‘He’s just down the hall,’ said Aveline softly, ‘but Varric would like to speak to you both before you see him.’

Carver nodded feebly. He looked ready to be sick.

Aveline led the younger Hawke and the elf down the dark corridor to where Varric was leaning against a large wooden door.

‘This isn’t going to be easy on either of you,’ the dwarf sighed, and Fenris could see his hands clasped together tightly, trying to control the obvious shaking, ‘The healers have done what they can. He’s in no danger of dying at this time. But I have to warn you…’

Varric took a deep shaking breath, looking away while he tried to find the correct words.

‘He’s been trapped in the Fade for months. There’s not much left of the man you knew. In both a figurative and literal sense.’

Fenris felt his stomach lurch as a wave of panic rushed through his body. All of a sudden, walking through that door seemed like the hardest thing in the world.

‘Are you ready to go in?’ asked the dwarf.

Fenris was in a daze. He was not in any way ready. But he felt his head nod, as if he was being controlled by some unseen force. He wasn’t ready for this. But Varric was opening the door, and the elf felt his feet moving without his brain’s permission.

He walked into the room with his eyes lowered and Carver at his side.

He heard the younger man blurt out an abrupt ‘NOPE,’ and turn, leaving the room immediately.

He could hear the sickening rattle of the man’s breathing before he’d even begun to approach the bed. Each breath sounded painful and tortured, and the elf felt his head start to spin again. He wanted to look at the man he loved. He wanted to badly to know that it was really him, but the fear was overwhelming.

For a moment he stood at the side of the bed, head buried in his hands, as he steadied his breathing. When he was certain he was calm again, he dared to look upon his lover.

It was too much to take in. Too horrible. He fell to his knees, bile burning his throat as he retched onto the cold stone floor.

He continued to heave for some time, though his stomach was long since empty. Tears burned his eyes and he struggled to pull himself up.

The man was little more than a skeleton, pale, waxy skin covered in lesions and bruises. If it wasn’t for the foul rattling coming from the man’s chest, Fenris would have believed him to be long dead. The elf threw himself on Hawke, howling desperately.

‘I’m sorry, my love,’ he wailed, throwing his arms around the emaciated man, ‘I should have been there to protect you! Why did you have me stay behind?!’

He sobbed into the mages body for an eternity, rocking he man he loved in his arms. He felt disgusting and selfish that he had hoped the man would live. How was the mage to recover from this? This was too much to bear.

Fenris felt himself start to panic. It was covering his whole body, crawling on his skin. He wanted to scratch the panic off. He looked down at his arms.

There actually was something crawling on his skin.

 

\-----

 

The door swung open with a loud bang.

‘Knife!’ screamed Fenris, ‘I need a knife!’

Varric leapt forward, grabbing the warrior by the arms.

‘Elf! Fenris! Listen to me!’ the dwarf shouted, ‘I know it looks bad, but don’t give up on him! He’ll get through this!’

Fenris was in a frenzy. Pacing, growling. Arms failing as he swatted at unseen terrors surrounding his body. He shook Varric’s hands off violently.

‘I need a knife,’ he repeated, ‘A sharp knife!’

Aveline rushed in, grabbing the elf by the shoulders roughly.

‘NO, Fenris!’ she demanded, ‘He did not crawl out of the Fade because he wanted to die. He returned because he wanted to LIVE.’

The warrior shook his head, scratching at his arms furiously.

‘No!’ came his shocked voice, ‘I don’t want to deliver a mercy blow! No!’

He continued to scratch violently at his arms as he paced back and forth anxiously.

‘Then why…’ began Varric.

‘Lice! He has Lice!’ cried the panicked elf, ‘In his hair, in his beard. All over his body! They’re on me now as well. Revolting things!’

Varric shook his head angrily.

‘Would have thought the healers could have done something about that,’ he muttered furiously, ‘Fade lice, huh? Well that’s… something.’

Fenris collapsed to the floor, exhausted. He reached out and clutched Aveline’s leg without thinking.

‘He needs to be shaved. This has been a very bad day,’ he sighed.

Varric walked over to the boneless elf and clapped him on the shoulder. The warrior groaned, unable to let go of the Guard Captain’s leg for fear that it was the one thing keeping him anchored to the mortal realm.

‘I’m on it, elf,’ said the dwarf, ‘I’ll have the healer back to shave him. They can burn his clothing and bed sheets. Then, bye bye Fade lice.’

The dwarf turned and began to walk down the corridor, stopping and turning after a few paces.

‘And, elf? You might want to go wash, before we have to shave you as well.’

Fenris watched as the dwarf walked away and he groaned. This had been a VERY bad day.

 

\-----------

 

Fenris had almost forgotten that there was a world outside of this room. Days and nights blurred together into a thick fog as he sat by the man he loved. The lesions on Hawke’s body were healing well, now that the lice had been taken care of. Thanks to a sickly smelling concoction of druffalo milk, stock and healing herbs, the man was filling out rapidly. The healer, an elderly woman with a harsh face, finally trusted the elf to feed and bathe the sleeping man. Fenris had no real reason to leave the room. Hawke continued to sleep.

Carver, however, refused to visit his brother for almost four weeks. He would not so much as stick his nose in the door. The shock of seeing his brother when they first reached Skyhold had been too much, and he was on the verge of leaving to rejoin the Wardens when Hawke finally woke.

Fenris dozed in the chair next to Hawke’s bed, uncomfortable and emotionally drained, when he felt weak fingers grasping at his hand.

‘Hawke,’ the elf gasped.

Hawke’s eyes were open. The mage was looking at him.

‘Hawke? Garrett? Can you hear me?’

Hawke dull eyes widened as his mind struggled to adjust to his surroundings. His eyes were suddenly darting around the room, and Fenris could see the terror building in his face.

‘Hawke…’ said the warrior, reaching out to stroke the man’s face.

The moment the elf’s fingers touched the man’s cheek, the mage broke into a panic. His breaths became sharp and desperate. His entire body trembled violently. He gave a soft, hoarse moan and then he threw his head back and SCREAMED.

It was a scream that penetrated every cell in Fenris’ body. The elf could do nothing to calm the mage, and suddenly the room was full of people.

‘Help him!’ the elf cried desperately.

A rough shove from one of Skyhold’s healers sent him staggering back. His foot caught on the rug, and he fell back onto the cold stone floor. Overwhelmed by helplessness, Fenris felt tears begin to roll down his cheeks. He lay on his back listening to Hawke’s desperate screams, and flung an arm over his face to cover his loud sobs.

The screams eventually died down and the room began to clear out. Fenris remained where he was, too exhausted to sit up or open his eyes. Strong hands suddenly grasped him under his arms, pulling him upright.

‘Are you alright?’ asked a voice that the elf despised.

‘Unhand me,’ the warrior growled, shoving roughly at the Inquisitor’s hands.

He pushed himself away from the man’s grasp and ran to the healer’s side.

‘Is he alright?’ the elf asked, panicked.

The woman nodded, her attention remaining on the man trembling on the bed.

‘Sensory overload. He will be alright,’ she muttered in a voice that Fenris found far too uncaring.

Sitting on the side of the bed, the elf began to reach out for his lover’s face. He paused.

‘Will he panic if I touch him?’ he asked the healer softly.

She shook her head, placing some small potion bottles on the bedside table.

‘I daresay he’s over the initial shock. Do as you please,’ she said, turning to leave the room.

‘Thank you,’ mumbled the warrior, gently stroking Hawke’s cheek.

‘Those bottles contain a sedative, should he require it.’

Fenris nodded, returning his attention to the man he loved. A small smile had spread across the mage’s face, and he turned his head into the elf’s touch.

‘I see that smile, you wonderful man,’ whispered the warrior, a smile spreading across his own face.

A nervous cough behind him made Fenris turn around. Inquisitor Trevelyan was standing a few paces behind him, shifting his weight nervously.

‘Fenris, I’d just like to say…’

‘No,’ spat the elf, ‘I have no wish to hear your excuses. This is your fault. Leave us.’

The Inquisitor looked as if he might try to speak again, but then thought better of it. He offered Fenris a small nod and turned to leave. The elf glared at him as he left the room, hating the man ferociously.

His attention was drawn back to the man in the bed. His eyes were open and fixed on the elf and his hand clutched at the one stroking his cheek.

‘Fe… ris.’

The elf felt tears in his eyes, and leaned down to kiss the man’s forehead gently.

‘It will be alright, my love.’


	4. Chapter 4

‘Junior’s been in there a while,’ mused Varric, leaning against the cold stone wall outside of the Champion’s room.

Fenris cast the dwarf a sidelong glance.

‘He hasn’t seen his brother properly in weeks,’ said the elf, ‘Let him take as long as he wishes.’

Varric chuckled and shook his head.

‘I’m saying it’s a good thing, elf,’ he said with a smile, ‘Poor guy nearly fainted last time he went into that room.’

The pair stood in silence, both thinking back to the man who had fallen out of the Fade. It was an horrific sight for everyone to deal with, but had hit Carver the hardest. Hawke looked vastly different now form the man they had first laid eyes on in that cold, dim room in Skyhold. He almost looked healthy. Almost.

His mind was a different matter. The man was broken. Traumatised to the point of childlike behaviour and near total muteness .

‘I’ve already gotten a reply from Aveline,’ said Varric.

‘What? Already?’

‘I wrote to her the moment Hawke woke,’ continued the dwarf, ‘She can’t get back to Skyhold for the time being. But she’s relieved to hear the news. ‘ _I knew he’d survive._ _Always was a tough bastard’_ is what she said.’

Aveline had left Skyhold one week after bringing Fenris and Carver to Hawke’s side. She really had little choice. The Captain of the Guard was needed back in Kirkwall.

Fenris had felt lost when she’d left. He hadn’t realised how much he’d come to rely on the woman’s strength. There were more than a few nights spent beside Hawke’s bed after they had arrived, that the red head had sat with the elf as he’d stared at his lover’s sleeping face, willing himself not to break down completely. She didn’t have to say anything. Just being there was enough.

‘She is a fine woman,’ the warrior murmured, ‘I look forward to seeing her when Hawke and I return to Kirkwall.’

The pair heard a faint creak, and the door to Hawke’s room opened slowly. Carver emerged looking drained, but happy.

‘He looks much better than the last time I saw him,’ came his weary voice, ‘I don’t really want to leave now.’

The younger Hawke was preparing to return to the Wardens. He’d been putting it off for weeks. Now that his brother was awake, he felt he could leave, safe in the knowledge that Hawke really was going to live.

‘Fenris,’ the man said, softly, looking down awkwardly at his feet, ‘will you come in with me while I tell him I’m leaving?’

The elf nodded. Hawke was not comprehending much. He’d only managed to say two words in the week since he’d woken. ‘ _Fenris’_ and ‘ _food’_. No one was sure exactly how much he understood of what was said to him, but his bother leaving was bound to be upsetting, and Carver was all too aware of this.

‘Whatever you wish,’ said the warrior.

Carver took a deep breath and straightened his shoulders, throwing the elf a thankful look.

‘Don’t stress. You’ll be back, Little Hawke,’ said Varric, ‘You’ll see him soon.’

The younger Hawke nodded and let Fenris go in ahead of him. He watched the elf sit on the bed and stroke the man’s hair gently. Hawke grabbed at the warrior’s other hand, closely inspecting the palm.

‘Food.’

Fenris chuckled.

‘No, not now,’ he said with a smile, ‘I’ll bring you food later. Your brother needs to tell you something.’

Carver paced by the side of the bed nervously for a few moments, eventually taking a seat near his brother’s side.

‘Big brother…’ he began.

‘Food.’

The two warriors looked at each other and began to laugh.

‘He didn’t have much in the way of food in the Fade,’ chuckled the elf, ‘he’s making up for lost time.’

They watched Hawke’s eyes darting back and forth between their faces. His eyes were so much brighter, but there was little in the way of understanding.

‘Big brother,’ Carver repeated with a heavy sigh, ‘I have to leave. I’ll be back soon. I have to rejoin the Wardens.’

It didn’t register. Hawke was preoccupied with Fenris’ hand, as if checking it again and again would cause food to magically appear.

‘That’s it?’ groaned the younger man, ‘That’s all the response I get?’

Carver reached out and ruffled his brother’s fast growing hair, causing the mage to close his eyes and grin widely.

‘You be good, brother,’ the younger Hawke said, his voice catching on the last word, ‘You be good for Fenris. He loves you very much.’

Determined to leave before it got too difficult, Carver stood up and walked quickly towards the door.

‘Brother?’

The word came out awkwardly, as if he wasn’t quite sure how to form the sounds, and Carver took a deep breath and paused.

‘I will be back, Garrett. I promise.’

Hawke watched his brother leave the room with a look of confusion. He looked to his lover for reassurance. Fenris pulled the mage into a tight hug, stroking the back of his head gently.

‘Shh... It’s okay,’ whispered the elf, ‘It’s okay.’

‘Brother?’ whimpered the man, squirming in his lover’s grasp.

‘It’s okay, my love,’ the warrior whispered again, gently kissing the other man’s forehead, ‘Please calm down.’

Varric appeared in the doorway.

‘Is he okay, elf?’ the dwarf asked.

Fenris shook his head.

‘He seems to understand that Carver is leaving,’ sighed the warrior, ‘He’s not happy about it. That much is obvious.’

‘He’s increasing his vocabulary,’ the dwarf said hopefully, ‘That can only be a good thing.’

Varric sat with the men until Hawke’s whimpering began to die down. Once the mage was silent, Varric reached into his pocket and pulled something out.

‘Hawke?’ he asked, holding out a cookie, ‘Would you…’

‘FOOD,’ cried Hawke, roughly grabbing the cookie from the dwarf’s hand.

‘Like a cookie,’ laughed Varric.

 

\------------

 

There was a knock at the door, before it opened slowly and a face Fenris had seen only briefly from a distance peeked around the door.

‘May I enter?’

The elf narrowed his eyes. He knew who this man was, and he had no interest in letting him anywhere near him or his lover.

‘Tevinter,’ he growled, ‘and just what makes you think that you are welcome in here?’

He man laughed nervously, running his hand along the back of his neck.

‘I… know of your past,’ he said, ‘and understand why you’d have no wish to speak to me.’

‘Then perhaps you’d be wise to leave.’

The man hovered in the doorway, but made no move to withdraw.

‘I was with him, you know,’ the Tevinter continued, ‘In the Fade.’

Fenris grunted angrily in response. Clearly the Tevinter had no plans to leave until he had spoken, and the warrior had no strength to argue.

‘Whatever you came here to say, Tevinter,’ snapped the elf, ‘say it and leave.’

‘Dorian Pavus,’ the man introduced himself, ‘I understand that my countrymen can be exceedingly cruel. It is the reason I left the Imperium to join the Inquisition.’

‘Well then,’ Fenris spat, gesturing wildly, ‘Let us be best friends!’

Dorian took a few nervous steps into the room.

‘I wanted to check in on the Champion,’ he said, ‘And I’d hoped that we may talk, also.’

The elf felt his lyrium begin to hum. Had he not been sitting with his traumatised lover, he would likely have lashed out at the man inching towards him. Hawke, as it was, was dozing peacefully. Fenris had no intention of disturbing him.

‘I think you are incredibly brave. Had The Inquisitor chosen to stay behind, I daresay I would not have coped.’

‘Perhaps he should have been the one to stay,’ said the elf though clenched teeth.

‘He is not the uncaring monster that you perceive him to be,’ the Tevinter said.

‘I despise the man,’ said Fenris, voice low and calm, but full of hate.

The Tevinter crossed him arms and shook his head.

‘I don’t see why there is a need for things to be quite so antagonistic between us,’ he said, ‘The Champion needs support from us all.’

Fenris stood up and stormed across the room, facing the other man.

‘What did you come here to say?’ the elf snarled.

The mage roughly shoved a book into the warrior’s hands.

‘Take it,’ he sighed, ‘I found it in the library. It has some rather lovely prints of Fereldan. There are several of Lothering before the Blight. I thought the Champion may like to look at them.’

Fenris took the book, but said nothing.

‘Give him the book. Or don’t,’ sighed the Tevinter, ‘I don’t know if it will do any good. Though I do trust that he will eventually recover. He’s an incredibly strong willed man.’

‘You know nothing of my partner, Tevinter,’ growled the warrior, ‘I will now ask you to leave this room and not return.’

Dorian sighed, realising that this was a battle that he would not win today. He had hoped that the elf might understand that they were on the same side.

The initial meeting between Dorian and Hawke had been fairly hostile. Varric had warned him not to expect any sort of friendship from the Champion. However, he and Hawke had found common ground when discussing their mutual hatred of blood magic during the long journey to Adamant Fortress. And when the Champion told him of Fenris, and the horrific abuse he had suffered at the hands of his former master, Dorian had felt physically ill.

Hawke quickly learned that this particular Tevinter mage was unlike any other member of the Imperium nobility.

‘ _Fenris could come to like you, I think_ ,’ Hawke had told him.

The elf had turned his back on Dorian and returned to his lover’s side. Dorian noted with some relief that the warrior was still holding the book to his chest. A small victory, the mage told himself.

Fenris didn’t acknowledge the Tevinter’s farewell, though when Hawke began to stir, he placed the book in his lap, looking for the chapter on Lothering. He sighed as he forced himself to admit that this book may have a positive effect on Hawke, after all.


End file.
